A Chant Sublime

A Chant Sublime

Wisdom is often about discovering distinctions.

Many of you liked my post on the distinction between discernment and judgment toward others, and the difference between puzzles and mysteries in regard to God. If you missed it, read here.

So this holiday season, I came across another distinction. Let me explain.

It started when I received a YouTube link from musical artist John Gabriel Arends, performing a not-so-known Christmas carol, “I Heard The Bells.” Hear his version here.

For starters, this song is disarmingly honest. That’s saying something in a Christian culture that says we should be inside-outside-upright-downright happy all the time.

Note the third verse…

I heard the bells on Christmas day, their old familiar carols play,

And wild and sweet the words repeat of peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how, as the day had come, the belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along the unbroken song of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head: “There is no peace on earth,” I said, “

“For hate is strong and mocks the song of peace on earth, good will to men.”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: “God is not dead, nor doth He sleep.

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, with peace on earth, good will to men.”

Till, ringing singing, on its way, the world revolved from night to day,

A voice, a chime, a chant sublime, of peace on earth, good will to men!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Secondly, consider the context of the writer. Arends said, “I love this song because I believe it brings hope in the day we are living. The original words of this Christmas carol were penned on Christmas Eve 1863 during the Civil War in the United States by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, when he received the news that his son had been severely wounded in battle. On the heels of 40,000 lives being lost in the Battle of Gettysburg, Longfellow grappled with darkness around him.”

Understanding context profoundly alters meaning and impact.

What deep reserves of faith did Longfellow draw from in order to write this song?

And finally, upon rereading the lyrics, I discovered I’d been singing it wrong my whole life!Continue reading

Divine Spark Within

Divine Spark Within

Anna Dostoevsky, 1846-1918

“I’m glad to see you Fyodor, and in such a cheerful mood at that. Has something pleasant happened to you?”

“Yes, it has. Last night I had a marvelous dream.”

“Oh, is that all!” And I started to laugh.

“Please don’t laugh. I attribute great meaning to dreams. My dreams are always prophetic.”

“In that case, tell me your dream!”

“Do you see that big rosewood box? That is a gift from my Siberian friend …and I value it very much. I keep my manuscripts and letters in it, and other things that are precious to me for their memories. And so this is my dream: I was sitting in front of that box and rearranging the papers in it. Suddenly something sparkled among them, some kind of bright little star. I was leafing through the papers and the star kept appearing and disappearing. And this was intriguing to me. I started slowly putting all the papers to one side. And there among them I found a little diamond, a tiny one, but very sparkling and brilliant.”

(A few moments later, Fyodor continued…)

“I’ve been thinking up a plot for a new novel,”

“Oh tell me, do tell me about it,” I begged, very curious. And (then) a brilliant improvisation poured out. Never, neither before nor afterward, did I hear from him such an inspired tale as on that day.

—From Dostoevsky: Reminiscences by Anna Dostoevsky, his wife

One of my passions is exploring the elements that shaped people of great faith. I prefer the story behind the biography, digging deeper, past someone’s known accomplishments to the person they were when no one was looking. And particularly—what happened in their childhood.

So one April, at a writer’s conference in California, an editor asked me about heroes of faith. The topic was a regular feature in her magazine. A lot of big names easily came to mind, but I paused. What person really shaped my faith?

Fyodor Dostoevsky 1821-1881

“Fyodor Dostoevsky,” I said. “The great Russian novelist.”

Her face brightened with surprise. She asked if I would write a full-length article. Being a brand new author, I felt flushed with excitement. But I specified my interest: “I’d like to write about the man beyond his writing.”

I’d been a fan of Dostoevsky’s work since high school when I did my final English term paper on his novel, Crime and Punishment. In college I read The Brothers Karamazov. That story presented the human condition and the struggle of faith like no other, excepting Les Miserables by Victor Hugo. It moved me to the core as I wrestled with many of the same questions his characters asked.

For me, reading Russian literature was no small accomplishment. In junior high I had to go to Reading Lab because I was such a slow reader. Comprehension wasn’t a problem. I just wanted to read every single word. The funny thing is, it still takes me a long time to finish a book. But reading at a relaxed pace allows time to soak in a story, enter the conflict, and identify with the characters.

With a fresh writing assignment and the possibility of getting published I dove in. I ordered two books about Dostoevsky through Montana’s inter-library system. Anna, his wife, wrote one and his daughter, Lyubov, penned the other. I also read how his contemporaries felt about him.

Leo Tolstoy said, “To me, Dostoevsky was a precious person—perhaps the only person I might have asked about many things, and who might have given me answers about many things.”

Albert Einstein said,Continue reading

Remember Who You Are

Remember Who You Are

“Don’t you think it’s damaging? My husband asked.

“What do you mean?” I looked up from my work.

“The Cinderella myth, promising the happily-ever-after.”

“Yes, probably.” I gazed across the room, pondering the thought. “But for me,” I replied, “Jesus is the real prince charming—the only One who can fulfill that desire.”

People say Disney Classics are dark—maybe  too dark for little kids…the wicked step-mother in Cinderella, the jealous queen in Snow White, the evil fairy Maleficent in Sleeping Beauty, the sea witch in The Little Mermaid. Perhaps the daunting takeaway isn’t the reality of opposition, but the false promise of happily ever after.

Beauty and The Beast probably offers the most realistic version of love. Most of us are held captive, carrying wounds that make us beastly. All of us need someone to love us despite our limitations. And it takes courage to love the otherness of the other. Perseverance in love can bring transformation.

But we need God in order to bring our best selves to the challenge of relationship. And not just through prayer, or biblical principles.

We need to feel His love.

Years ago, genius songwriter Bob Dylan wrote a song called “Make You Feel My Love.” The first time I heard it, I immediately felt Jesus singing the words to me—deep into my spirit. Hope you enjoy this song and accompanying slide show…Continue reading